They Lost Her
by NinjaAntelope
Summary: What if Katniss didn't volenteer for her sister in the 74th annual Hunger Games? This is the story of Primrose Everdeen...
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's**_ **Note**

_Hey all, this story, as some of you may already know, was originally posted on my friend's (Superhypercarrot's) account. This story will no longer be updated there, only here._

_-Ninja Antelope_

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This is it. My first reaping. I don't know how to feel. Amidst the anxiety and fear is a feeling of empathy for the lost souls of the tributes. First they would have to overcome the guilt and regret that would occur after slaughtering an innocent child and then, if they somehow managed to outsmart the competitors, they would forever be haunted by terrible nightmares and flashbacks of their days in the arena. They would be another lost child wrecked by the Capitol's games. I would never be able to deal with that.

I dress into my sister Katniss' first reaping clothes, a pale coloured blouse and a skirt, The blouse is too big for me and keeps coming untucked at the back. "Tuck your tail in little duck!" My sister said as she tucked it in for me. "Quack!" I replied. Katniss looks beautiful wearing one of mother's dresses. We head out to the square which will soon be lined with the people of 12, children lined up for slaughter and parents hoping with all their might that their child will not be reaped today. Katniss and I line up at a desk to be registered. When I get to the desk, a peacekeeper pricks my finger and scans my blood. Primrose Everdeen 12 Y/O flashes up on the device. "Next" she calls and I am directed to an area marked for my age group and stand and wait. I get one final glance at Katniss before our district's escort, Effie Trinket, taps the microphone in front of her. "Happy Hunger Games everyone!" She chirps. She obviously does not know the meaning of happy. Children roped off for slaughter, all for the entertainment of the Capitol. I do not think that is anything to be happy about. "Hello and welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games! May the odds be Ever in your favour!" She says in her unmistakable Capitol accent. "Ladies First!" She chimes as she reaches her hand into the glass ball with the names in. She pulls a slip of paper out of the ball and takes a while to unfold it, her abnormally long false nails getting in the way. She finally manages to unfold the paper slip and reads out the name. Its very unlikely that it'll be my name on that paper as I am only one slip in thousands. Effie takes a deep breath and reads out the name. "Primrose Everdeen!" She chirps. I freeze. The odds have definitely not been in my favour.

"Come on up then!" Effie says. I stumble up to the platform, my eyes frantically searching the crowd for Katniss. I do not know how I managed to walk as my muscles have stopped responding to my brain. I finally reach the front and I can feel every single pair of eyes in the crowd fixated on me. Well, that is until the District 12 mentor Haymitch Abernathy stumbles off the stage and passes out in his own vomit. Effie clears her throat obviously trying to get the attention back to her. I still cannot move. "Now it's time to choose our male tribute." She says and then rummages through the second glass ball. She pulls out a second paper slip. Again, she struggles to unfold the paper due to her nails. A clear flaw of the Capitol's appearance based society. The crowd is full of pale, frozen faces and silence soon to be broken. Effie unfolds the white slip of paper and reads out the name in her warbling voice "Peeta Mellark!" The name brings a vague sense of recognition in the back of my mind but mostly it is just another name, another piece for the Capitol's games. He is the baker's son, a boy who will probably only be missed for his extravagantly decorated cakes and buns. He has two brothers, I think, the eldest is past reaping age but one is reapable. Peeta slowly makes his way to the stage, clearly stunned by this recent development of his life. "Now we have our District 12 tributes!" Effie says with a smile that no one sees, They are all too focused on the faces of their tributes that will soon be broken and forgotten, just two faces in distant memories. The mayor rises from his chair and begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason, the same as every year. Mayor Undersee finishes reading and gestures for Peeta and I to shake hands. I look long and hard into his icy blue eyes and try not to think about how in a matter of weeks, both of us will most likely be dead. The Panem anthem blares as we turn to face the crowd. The odds are heavily stacked against me I suppose.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as the anthem blares its final note, we are taken into custody and a group of Peacekeepers march us into the Justice Building. I guess tributes have probably made a final dash for freedom before, so they've enforced stricter regulations. Once inside the building, I am taken to a room and left alone. This room is the richest and most elaborate room I've ever seen. In the centre of the room is a red velvet couch which I cannot help running my hand across the soft, silky fabric as it helps me calm myself down. My mother has a dress collar made of the same lovely material. The next hour will be tough, it is the time given for tributes to say their final goodbyes to loved ones. The last time I'll see Katniss' beautiful smile and my mother's fair hair. I do hope that Buttercup does not miss me too much and that Katniss continues to feed him the entrails from her game. I cannot let myself get too emotional as there will be cameras pinned on me as soon as I leave. If I come across as too weak then people will count me out and I may not get any sponsors. Katniss bursts into the room, mother following behind, her face full of conflicting emotions. "Prim!" Katniss cries as soon as she sees me. I get up and run towards her. She sits down and pulls me onto her lap. "Listen to me Prim," she says, her voice adopting a serious tone. "You need to stay alive." "Find water, food, get a good ally." The allowed time is nearly over and the Peacekeeper waiting by the door is gesturing for them to leave. "You're a born healer Prim! Use it to your advantage" Katniss cries and the door closes. That will probably be the last time I'll ever see her.

I get no more visitors. A long empty silence fills the room, I start to think, I know that Katniss doesnt believe that I could win. I probably will not even survive the first night. Who knows what the Gamemakers have in store for the arena, one year, there was nothing but barren wasteland, and another where all the tributes froze to death. Even if I manage to find some shelter, I will soon be found by people like the Careers who have trained for this their whole lives, and others who know twenty different ways to kill you with a knife. What does a small, untrained girl from District 12 have against that? I have no chance. We are driven to the train station. I have never been in a car before, this is all new to me.

I was right, there are hundreds of insect like reporters swarming around us, trying to get a picture of the new tributes from 12. My face is emotionless, but Peeta on the other hand has been crying, and not trying to hide it either. Maybe he's trying to appear weak so the other tributes will count him out and then in the final few, he will transform into a brutal killer. This worked for Johanna Mason, a girl victor from 7 a few years back. This strategy is odd for someone like Peeta, a bakers boy, always having enough to eat and constantly hauling around heavy bread trays would make him broad shouldered and strong. It would take a lot of crying to make anyone think he was weak. We have to stand for a couple of minutes in the doorway of the train to allow the cameras to snap away our pictures, then we are led inside. The train begins to move. This is a Capitol engineered high-speed train with an average speed of 250 miles an hour, it will take us less than a day to get to the Capitol. I've never been on a train before, traveling between districts is strictly forbidden, and the only trains we have are to transport coal from the mines. The tribute train is even more elaborate than the Justice Building, we each have our own chambers with a bedroom, dressing room and private bathroom which even has hot and cold running water. At home, if we needed hot water then we would have to boil it ourselves. In the bedroom, there are drawers full of fine clothes, Effie Trinket said that we can wear whatever we want as everything is at our disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I take off my reaping clothes and take a hot shower. I've never had a shower before, it is like rain but warmer. There are many buttons on the side of the shower. I press one and a citrus smelling shampoo squirts on my head. I wash my hair and then dress into a pale yellow shirt and white trousers. I sit on my bed until Effie comes to collect me for supper. I follow her through the narrow corridor into a dining room with polished panel walls. Effie and Peeta start talking about Haymitch and I tune out until I see the food starting to arrive. It comes in courses, thick carrot soup, green salad, lamb chops and potato, cheese and fruit, and an amazing looking chocolate cake. Effie reminds us to save space because there are more courses to come, but I've never tasted food so good, I can't help stuffing myself. "At least you two have decent manners" she says as we finish our main courses "the last pair are everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion." The last pair, kids from the poorer part of 12, kids who hay probably never had enough to eat, not one day of their lives. Obviously Effie, being from the Capitol does not know the meaning of starving. Annoyed by her remark, I make a point of eating the rest of the meal with my hands. Effie looks disgusted but doesn't say anything. Now that the meal is over, I am fighting to keep everything down. I've never had such rich food in my life. Peeta is looking a little green too.

We go into another compartment to watch recaps of the reapings, examining the faces of our competitors. A few stand out to me, a monstrous boy who lunges to volunteer for 2, a fox-faced red haired girl from 5, and a twelve year-old girl from 11. I immediately want her as an ally, she has dark brown skin and eyes. Lastly, they show 12, my name being called and me stumbling to the stage, the back of my blouse untucked and my face ghostly pale. The Panem anthem blares and the screen goes black. I slowly make my way to my chamber, wishing today was just a terrible dream.


	3. Chapter 3

I dream that I'm back in 12, in the Meadow with Katniss and mother. They're laughing and smiling. Katniss starts singing a lullaby,

_Deep in the meadow, Under the willow,_

_ A bed of grass, A soft green pillow_

_ Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_ And when again they open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm _

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_ Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_ Here is the place where I love you._

Just before she gets to the third verse I am woken up by Effie Trinket's loud voice "Up up up! It's going to be a big big big day!" She chirps. I slowly get out of bed and pull the same clothes on that I was wearing yesterday, they're not that dirty, just a bit crumpled. I feel that I should unbraid my hair, as it may be a bit knotted, but I do not as it is the only remaining connection I have left to my mother. I just smooth my hair down and make my way to the dining car for breakfast. I slide down in my chair and am presented immediately by a huge platter of food. Eggs, ham, and piles of fried potato. I still cannot imagine how the Capitol fill themselves with tonnes of rich food and the people of 12 are left to starve. It's cruel... They're probably trying to fatten us up for the games so we have enough fat not to die of cold or starvation quickly. In front of me is a cup of smooth, creamy light brown liquid. I take a sip, it's so sweet and creamy that I do not eat any more of my breakfast before I've completely drained the cup.

"They call it hot chocolate, great isn't it" Peeta says. I don't reply, I just eat my breakfast. I eat and eat until I feel as if my stomach is about to burst. I look around the room, Peeta is still eating and Haymitch is drinking. (as always) This makes me think, he's hardly going to be any use as a mentor is he can't stay sober. Not that I had any chance anyway. I think about maybe asking for some advice but I think he's too involved in thinning some juice with spirits... Peeta seems to be thinking the same thing "So you're supposed to be giving us advice" he says to Haymitch.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." Haymitch replies. Peeta doesn't look impressed. Haymitch bursts out laughing.

"Very funny." Peeta says flatly and then suddenly lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. The red liquid runs across the shining floor. "Only not to us" Haymitch punches Peeta in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. I shrink back, hopefully avoiding Haymitch and his drunken rage. Haymitch reaches for his bottle and I've had enough. A drunk mentor is not what I need to stay alive. I need to stay alive, for Katniss, and mother. I grab a knife and throw it at the bottle, smashing it. I brace myself to deflect the blow, but it doesn't come. Haymitch looks from me to Peeta, then back at me.

"Well, what's this?" Says Haymitch, "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" He has a serious expression on his face. "I'll make you two a deal. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you." Well, it's a step forward.

"Fine." Says Peeta,

"Okay" I say. It may give us a chance, it's better than nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Bright light floods in from the windows, I can't help running to look. There it is, the Capitol. What we've only ever seen on television. Magnificent buildings in a wide variety of colours and oddly dressed people crowd the streets. The colours don't seem natural, they're all too vivid. The people point in excitement as they see the tribute train rolling in, I instinctively step away from the window. They're waiting for us to be killed for their entertainment... Peeta does the opposite, he stays at the window, waving and smiling. How could he bear to look at people who are betting on how long we will stay alive.

My prep team flock over me like geese, examining every inch of my body. Venia, a woman with alarming aqua coloured hair, has ripped every hair off of my legs and arms. I feel like a bird plucked of its feathers. I've been in remake for almost three hours now. I still haven't met my stylist. The prep team have shaped my nails and scrubbed my skin almost raw. This better be worth it, it better help me get sponsors. My prep team are made up of Venia, Octavia, a plump woman with skin dyed a shade of pea green, and Flavius, a man with bright orange curls and shocking purple lipstick.

"Grease her down!" Flavius orders, Venia and Octavia rub my sore skin with a lotion that stings at first but then soothes my skin. They then remove the papery thin robe I've been allowed to wear, and circle me, examining me like a work of art. "Excellent! You look almost human now!" Flavius says and everyone laughs. I stay silent, the whole room is silent until Flavius pipes up. "Let's call Cinna!" He says. My prep team dart out of the room. I stand there, starting at the bare, white floor, missing home. A young man enters the room, he must be Cinna, I think. He has an unusual lack of cosmetic alteration for someone of the Capitol. Most of the stylists on television are grotesque. The only Capitol element about him is that he is wearing metallic gold eyeliner.

"Hello Primrose. I am Cinna, your stylist." He says.

"Hello." I reply quietly.

"Just give me a minute." He says, and walks around me, examining my body. Cinna is not like the other stylists. I suppose he's probably new. I wonder why they gave him 12. "Why don't you put your robe on and we'll have a chat." He says. I pull on my robe and follow him into another room. Two red couches face each other. I sit down and Cinna sits across from me. He presses a button and a table comes up laid with a meal of creamy chicken on a bed of white grain, peas and onions, and a pudding the color of honey. Nothing like we'd ever have back home. "So Primrose, about your costume for the opening ceremony. My partner, Portia, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Peeta. And our current thought is to dress you in complementary costumes." Says Cinna. "As you know, it's customary to reflect the flavour of the district" Oh no. I think back to previous years. We'll be coal miners for sure. One year, they had the tributes completely naked, covered in coal dust.

"Will we be coal miners?" I ask quietly.

"Well not exactly, Portia and I think the coal miners thing is too overused, no one will remember you if you are just another coal miner, and we need to make you unforgettable" Oh no, we'll be naked for sure... "So instead of the coal mining, we're focusing on the coal," Naked and covered on coal dust... "And what do we do with coal? We burn it! You're not afraid of fire, are you?"


End file.
